


always please the crowd

by plinys



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-30 08:43:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3930358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plinys/pseuds/plinys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She looks like a star, like a fairy tale princess off to finally get her happily ever after, and where does that leave Peggy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	always please the crowd

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinceresapphire](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinceresapphire/gifts).



> For a fic swap with the lovely Mikal! My word was "fairy tale" and well, I play pretty loose with these prompts.
> 
> And inspired by the fact that we're not only getting a season two, but it's coming to California, which clearly means Angie taking over Hollywood!

It’s funny how one could miss a place that was never truly home.

She didn’t miss London, the bustling streets that she had spent her late teen years wandering through, or her parent’s townhouse.

She didn’t miss the war camps, the feeling of dirt forever under her nails and rain beating down on tent roofs.

It wasn’t even New York that she missed, the sprawling streets, the familiar path to the SSR building, haunted with the ghost of a memory of a man lost to time.

No, the place she missed the most was one she’d never called home for more than a night or two.

Though perhaps that had more to do with the _person_ who was here, rather than the place itself.

Because even with all of the flashing lights and the glam that Hollywood had to offer, it paled in comparison to the light of _Angie_.

Angie, who is standing on the red carpet like she belongs here, curls bouncing over her shoulders, a happy smile on her lips. She’s wearing the dress that Peggy had helped her pick out, the one that shimmers down her body, a mix of silvers that sparkle whenever the bright lights hit her. Her first Hollywood movie premiere and already one could tell that this is where she belonged.

She looks like a star, like a fairy tale princess off to finally get her happily ever after, and where does that leave Peggy?

The spy from New York who swings by from time to time. Popping in when the world’s about to end or as a date when she can get the time off.

“Don’t make a scene, pal,” Howard says, materializing by her side, because _of course_ he’s here.

He’s seems to be everywhere there’s boxum blondes this day. The latest one, a Hollywood starlet with ringlet circles that reminders her just too much of a certain Soviet, chatters off to the press, leaving her _date_ free to wander.

“I’m not making a scene,” Peggy insists, the words coming out through tight lips, unable to resist tacking on the appropriate, “yet.”

That gets her a laugh in return, “try not to punch their lights out.”

“I’m not going to punch anybody.”

Not because punching things doesn’t solve anything.

But rather because what she’s jealous of is less of a _somebody_ and more of a _something_.

It is rather hard to take out her anger on a place.

“You know,” he continues, because he’s never been one to know when to just let a topic _drop_ , “there’s one way you could ensure your possessive streak-“

“I’m not _possessive,_ ” she cuts him off, because this is an old discussion, one they’ve had many times.

“Course not, pal,” he grins, squeezing her shoulders lightly, “I’m just saying, move to California, Peggy. Los Angeles, the city of dreams, or was it angels? It doesn’t matter. What matters, is that there’s sunshine and important people, in this day and age, pal, it’s the place to be, where everyone important is.”

“Is that right?”

“Well, I’m here. And your gal’s here,” Howard nods his head towards Angie, “that’s everyone important isn’t it?”

“You’re quite full of yourself,” she says, in what is an obvious misdirection.

“Just think about it. I could get you a place out here in a blink of an eye.”

“I’ll think about it,” she promises him, because that’s what it takes for him to go away and back to his date.

Leaving Peggy free to deal with her own thoughts, with nothing more than a friendly kiss pressed to her curls in passing as a farewell.

“Oh, one last thing, Howard,” she says, to her departing friend.

Causing him to turn over his shoulder with that familiar smirk, “yes, pal?”

“Use protection.”

“Believe you me, Carter, kids are the _last_ thing I want,” Howard tips his invisible hat at her, before going back to his unattended date. She’s half certain he doesn’t even know the name of the poor girl, and she’ll be forgotten by the time the sunrises anyways.

When she tears her eyes away from that nauseating display and back towards where Angie had been, she’s momentarily startling to find the Angie’s no longer talking to the press.

 If she had missed her going inside then-

“English, almost thought you weren’t going to make it?”

What is it with Peggy’s friends having a way of magically materializing behind her? She was a world renown (or as renown as somebody in her profession could be) super spy and yet everyone seemed to be sneaking up on her today. Either she was off her game or highly distracted by all of this.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Peggy insists, “my best girl in her big Hollywood debut.”

She can’t be as intimate as she would like here, not with cameras on them and Angie’s career an ever fragile thing, but her hand darts out, winds their fingers together in a way anybody else might have thought was simply friendship.

“It’s kinda crazy, Peggy, it feels like just yesterday we were neighbors at the Griffith and now,” Angie’s got this tone of wonder in her voice, as she says, “Hollywood,” as though it’s the answer to every problem her life has ever held.

Angie’s still speaking, in a light tone, joking about her costars, but Peggy is lost in listening to her. Watching the way Angie’s whole face bursts into a smile, her eyes sparkle more than that dress ever could.

This is so clearly where Angie belongs. She blossoms here in a way that she never had in New York, and Peggy almost hates herself for being jealous of the city when it’s been so good to Angie.

She doesn’t mean to cut Angie off, it’s rude first off, but watching Angie talks makes a decision for her that she hadn’t even realized she’d been contemplating until the words leave her mouth, “I was thinking of moving to Los Angeles, if you’d have me?”

And there’s a moment there, before Angie responds, her lips parted in a silent o, where Peggy wants to take it back, thinks for a second she’s being too forward. But the moment passes as quickly as it had come, Angie darting forward to throw her arms around Peggy’s shoulders, their public be damned.

“I take it you approve then?”

“You kidding, English, this is the best news I’ve heard all year!”

“Better than all this,” she asks, because this is the one thing she has to know.

The one that’ll settle the highly illogical jealousy in her stomach down.

“A hundred times better.”  


End file.
